


Don't Tell

by redrose_writes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Parent Narcissa Black Malfoy, How Do I Tag, Hurt Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Oblivious Harry Potter, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Scared Draco Malfoy, Scared Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redrose_writes/pseuds/redrose_writes
Summary: Draco knows it's Harry Potter kneeling on the floor of his home. Harry knows Draco Malfoy knows it's him. The fate of the entire world depends on what happens in the next few moments, and both boys are terrified. But sometimes, the best decisions are made under the worst pressure and people's true colors shine through.
Kudos: 28





	1. Harry's POV

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the first part of a series I plan on writing, but it can also stand as its own little story! I hope you enjoy! Feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome!

Harry was beyond anxious as he was forced to the hard floor of Malfoy Manor, his glasses clattering to the ground from his face. Ron and Hermione both jostled into him as they, Dean, and Griphook were pulled down right alongside him. His scar burned, and he was terrified of what would happen if Malfoy identified him. And he knew he could.

As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Malfoy was just as fixated on him as he was on the blond. All the times he'd caught the other's eye while absently looking around the Great Hall or a classroom, all the times the other had gone out of his way to gain his attention and seemed almost disappointed when Harry didn't take the bait, proved that. If anyone could identify Harry with his face as messed up as it was, it was Draco Malfoy. And Harry didn't like that at all.

Pain shot through his scarーa forewarning of the danger he was now inーpulling his attention as the others in the room talked over his head. Narcissa urged Malfoy to take a look at Harry's face, and he could hear the manic excitement in Lucius's voice as he began to speak. Greyback all but snapped back, voice a gross snarl as he and Lucius went back and forth. But all Harry could hear were garbled words as he tried to push the pain out of his head.

Hands tugging at his hair fully brought him back to where he physically was. What had to be Lucius was knelt in front of him, face a few mere inches away from his own. Without his glasses, Harry couldn't see anything distinct about the man, but he just knew he was scrutinizingly searching messed up features for any signs of familiarity.

"That mark there, on his head... Yes... It _could_ be his scar... Well, Draco? Is it him? Is it Potter?"

Nobody spoke for a few moments. Harry could feel all eyes focused on him and Malfoy. His heart raced, and he thought he might throw up. One word from the blond and he was done, dead. The war was over, and the world would be gone. Just one word from the lips of the boy who'd hated him since day one, and everything was over. Everything, every _one_ , that had been lost would be for nothing. The situation couldn't be any worse.

"I don't know..."

Harry felt both Ron and Hermione tense up next to him. What seemed to be out of pure instinct, Hermione's fingers stretched out and intertwined with his own before squeezing tightly. She was nervous, they all were.

"What do you mean you ' _don't know_ ,' boy?" Greyback snarled. "Is it Potter or not? He was in your year, I heard, yeah? Then you should know."

"I-!" Draco practically squeaked, and images of a dark night atop the Astronomy Tower quickly flashed through Harry's mind.

"Now now," Narcissa's voice cut through the air like a blade, "give him a moment. Go closer, Draco. Next to your father, go on. Take a closer look, dear."

There was a pause before the sound of footsteps started towards the group of prisoners. And, though it was probably nothing more than mere seconds, it felt like a millennium before another pale face was appearing before him. He couldn't actually see who it was, of course, but the platinum blond locks that almost blended into the face of the other was a telltale sign.

"Well?" Lucius asked, turning Harry's head via the hand still twisted in his hair. "Is it him?"

Harry's breath stopped as he tried to peer up at the boy in front of him. He looked where he thought his eyes would be, little grey pools in the sea of white and blond. Merlin, if it wasn't so dire that he didn't talk, he'd have started begging Malfoy not to say anything.

He knew he could, knew it was probably better for the blond that he did, knew that if it was even just a year prior then he and his friends would already be dead. But now? Now all he could see was the terrified look on Draco Malfoy's face and the shakiness of his hand as he threatened to kill Albus Dumbledore. The blurry form of the other right in front of him was replaced by the tears brimming grey eyes as the headmaster of Hogwarts fell to his death.

Draco Malfoy, as much as Harry loathed to admit it, wasn't all bad. Maybe he wasn't bad at all. Maybe, just as Harry was, Draco Malfoy was a boy shaped by war. Maybe the only difference was that Draco Malfoy grew up on the wrong side, raised by people corrupted by their hunger for power. Maybe, now that he'd truly seen the world for what it was, seen what the side he'd been raised fighting for was actually doing, he'd finally start to change. Maybe... Please let him start by not outing Harry.

"I... I don't know..." he said again. He sounded disconcerted, scared. "M-Maybe, but... I-I don't know..."

A small glimmer of hope bubbled up inside of Harry as everyone else in the room voiced their frustrations with Malfoy.

"Come on, Draco," Lucius urged. "Look closer. Get closer."

There was another muffled squeak, followed by a light thud and crunching sound. Based on how close Malfoy's face now seemed to his, Harry figured Lucius must have pushed him forward some more... and directly onto Harry's glasses.

"His glasses!" Lucius all but shouted when Malfoy evidently moved back to see what he had fallen on. "Put his glasses on him! Hurry! Oh, give me!"

Before Harry knew it, his glasses were being roughly shoved onto his face by harsh hands. In the haste to get them on, Lucius didn't pay much attention to where they went or how they fell. And that meant they hung halfway off his face, lining up with neither eye and only draped over one ear... barely. But Lucius didn't seem to care as he urged Malfoy to take another look now that his "signature spectacles" were on.

"I..." was Malfoy's reply, before he leaned in a little closer.

Harry practically jumped when hands landed on his face again. This time, however, soft, slight, _cold_ fingers brushed up his swollen cheeks before they wrapped around the temples of his glasses and pulled them off. When the things were placed back on, much kinder than the first time, they were on as right as they could be with his distorted face. But it was good enough, with them resting fully on his ears and the lenses actually lining up with his eyes so he could see a little better. If they stretched and pressed down on the sides of his swollen head, oh well. At least now he could clearly point out some of Malfoy's features, including the shadows under his eyes that almost perfectly matched the grey of his irises. The blond was tired.

Harry's attention was drawn, though, from his gut reaction of automatically studying Malfoy to the feeling of shaky fingers trailing over his cheeks once more. Malfoy was nervous, and that meant he might fall through for them in the end. The chance that Malfoy would continue his "I don't know" act was getting slim, especially now that what were obviously Harry's circular glasses sat on his face. But Harryーno, the _entire Wizarding World_ ーneeded him to keep it up.

So, Harry moved his focus from the shakiness of the blond's hands to the hesitant, unsure look in his eyes. When green locked with grey, he did everything in his power to silently plead with all his might for Malfoy to keep going. He'd done well so far, not telling who Harry was despite definitely knowing. He just needed to maintain the lie- No, Malfoy couldn't lie to his parents. Fib. Yeah. He needed to maintain his fib just a little longer until they inevitably stopped asking and just took the uncertain answer, sending the group to the dungeons or something. Then they could plan their escape. But that wouldn't happen without Malfoy's help. Without him, they wouldn't survive to nightfall. And so, he begged.


	2. Draco's POV

Of course it was Potter right in front of him. Draco could tell that from the moment his eyes landed on the other boy. That messy hair, the tanned skin, what was obviously a distorted scar on his forehead; there was only one person it _could_ be. And Draco hated that.

"I don't know..." he answered his father's question, trying to sound as unsure as he could. Fenrir Greyback terrified him, and he swore the beast could _smell_ lies. If he caught wind of Draco trying to cover for Potter, then he would share the same deadly fate as the boy he was expected to identify.

But, as he was called over to stand next to his father, something in him screamed to keep covering for the other. He knew he could end it all with one word. Just one word, and Potter was out of his life forever. Just one word, and his name would be renewed to its former glory among the Death Eaters, his father placed back in his high ranking position among the Dark Lord's men. Just one word, and the side of the war his family was so entwined in would win. And yet... he just couldn't out the boy.

As he leaned down, bracing himself on his knees, to further examine Potter, he couldn't help the painful knot that twisted in his stomach. Whatever had happened to the other definitely wasn't good, and was most certainly painful. He didn't believe for one second that the Snatchers, that _Greyback's_ Snatchers, had just found him like that.

The boy's usually handsome face was, to put it kindly, absolutely grotesque. His cheeks were bloated, lips swollen. And his eyes were practically fused shut by the sheer size of his eyelids. He barely resembled something even close to human, let alone one specific human. If the Snatchers really did find him like that, then that meant Granger or Weasley had to do itーbecause it would have been _far_ too painful for Potter to do it to himselfーand that took courage... Much more courage than Draco had. Still, though, despite the appearance of the face, Draco knew exactly who it belonged to. And, now that he was closer, he was just gaining more reassurance of his already decisive conclusion.

The mark stretched taught against the distended forehead vaguely took a zigzag shape that Draco had been staring at for years. On the hand Granger oh-so-subtly clasped with her own, Draco could make out the faded scarring of ' **I must not tell lies** ' in Potter's own lettering, lettering Draco had memorized by 3rd Year. And, from what little he could see of the other's eyes, he was thrown back into a past where two boys met in a robe shop while buying school supplies and got to chatting, where one boy saw vibrant emerald eyes and was left starstruck at their beauty. "Perfectly Slytherin!" he had later told his father when describing the boy he hoped would be the first friend he'd finally gotten to choose for himself. Little did he know...

But yes, the boy in front of him was Potter. It was undoubtedly Potter. And the moment he answered truthfully, Draco could shuffle off to stand under the protection of his mother as far away from Fenrir Greyback as he could get without fully fleeing the room. All he had to do was answer truthfully... All he had to do was...

_"Malfoy, no."_ Draco froze. _"Merlin, Malfoy, please."_

What was that! ? How the _hell_ did Potter manage to do that!? The Dark Lord himself had called Draco one of the greatest Occlumens he'd ever met! So how the _bloody hell_ was Potter in his head!? Was it his imagination? Was the person in front of him not really Potter? Was...? Was-?

"I... I don't know," he repeated. "M-Maybe, but... I-I don't know..." And, for a brief moment, he really didn't.

Because there was no way Potter was in his head. Potter was no exceptional wizard. He wasn't anything overly powerful, mind wise. There had been many a lesson when Snape had ranted about how the ravenette was dreadfully pitiful at Occlumency. He had "absolutely no tact for even the basic skills of mind," as it had so graciously been spat from the then Potions professor's lips before he caught himself and refocused on Draco.

So how? How was Potter's voice ringing through his mind as he actively watched the boy's mouth not move at all?

_"Yes! Come on Malfoy! I know you can be good! Dumbledore did, too! Please!"_

He wanted his voice gone. He wanted it out of his head. However the hell Potter was doing it, he wanted him to stop. And he tried to tell him that. He tried to threaten him with a glare, just as he always did during their school days together. It worked back then, always stopping Potter dead in his tracks. So why was his voice still echoing over Draco's own thoughts?

_"He can be good. He_ **_can_ ** _. You've seen it, Harry. Believe he'll help you now. Please, Malfoy, don't sell me out."_

Wait-

He was pushed fully to his knees in front of Potter, and he bit back a pained whine as his hand slammed down onto something hard. That's when it finally hit him that Potter wasn't wearing his glasses. He couldn't see anything, see Draco's glare, because he was blind as a bat normally without his glasses, and now his eyes were mere slits on his face. That's why he didn't leave Draco's mind alone after the warning. That, and...

_"Ow! What was the point in that? They're not even in front of my eyes. I still can't see anything! And I highly doubt this would help_ **_anybody_ ** _identify me. Though, can't say I'm not grateful to not have to look at_ **_your_ ** _face just yet."_

"I..." He reached out, bit back a small smile as Potter flinched despite how gentle he made the new touch to his face. Now wasn't the time to be amused by Potter and his attitude and his other mannerisms. But damnit, Draco did enjoy how they always seemed to entertain him even in the darkest of times. Though, he supposed that was just another aspect of the Great Harry Potter's charm.

With his own features restored to their initial state, one glance up at Greyback terrifying him to his very core once more, Draco fixed the glasses as best he could. At least now they sat straight on the other's face, albeit just resting on his larger than normal nose rather than actually slotting onto it. But that was fine, as, from his close position, he watched Potter's pupils grow and shrink, watched the small bit of his eyes shown fill with recognition. Then he watched them fill with a slight worryーmixed with a slight panicーthat was only noticeable by someone who'd studied those eyes thoroughly for years.

Immediately, Potter's voice infiltrated his mind again. _"Those shadows under his eyes... He's tired. Wait, is he thinner? Paler? He looks-"_

Draco managed to push him out momentarily, just long enough for the voice of a bitter Potions professor to edge through his thoughts. This one was different, though, a mere memory Draco had previously outright dismissed as absolutely foolish. But it was now hitting him full force as Potter's voice slowly ebbed back in as a quickly growing, _very_ persistent whisper.

**"You watch out for Potter now, do you understand me?"** the man had asked one Occlimency lesson. **"He has the brain capacity of the back half of a flobberworm, but when overly emotional, especially upset, he evidently becomes quite the unknowingly powerful Legilimens. Not that he can control whose mind he breaks into, nor what he gives and/or takes from them. So, be extra careful of Potter, and make sure to take extra precautions in keeping him out."**

He... He didn't know he was doing it... Potter was in Draco's head, and he had no idea. He was letting Draco into every thought he was having, actively pushing them into Draco's mind whether he wanted it or not. So that meant... That meant Potter wasn't talking to him...

Potter was telling _himself_ that Draco was good. He was telling _himself_ to have faith in him. His life was on the line, and he was silently sitting back, hoping the boy who had been an absolute terror to him for seven years, a boy in possession of the branding mark of the man trying to kill him, would save him. For the first time, he wasn't trying to fight back and be everybody's hero. No, he was fully, _willingly_ , leaving the fate of the entire world in somebody else's hands. When literally _everything_ depended on it, he trusted Draco to do the right thing.

_Why?_

Why _now_? Why _him_? Why _Draco_? Potter had _nothing_ to believe he might side with him! For all intensive purposes, Draco was still the Dark Lord's precious little puppet, doing his bidding without a second thought out of pure prideful loyalty! So why was Potter putting all of his faith in him!?

Hell! _Draco_ didn't even know what side of the war he was on anymore! Because he definitely wasn't on Potter's side. But... he didn't want to be on the Dark Lord's anymore, either. He hadn't for a long time.

When he grew up hearing about the infamous Dark Lord, he only knew of the glorified version his father boasted about. He was told of the prestige that came from being one of his disciples. He believed people would worship him, would do everything in their power to stay in his good graces. His father was part of the Dark Lord's inner circle, and that meant Draco was going to be blessed with that honor, as well.

What he wasn't told was how it really, _truly_ felt to be responsible for innocent people's deaths. He didn't know the sick feeling that would twist itself into his gut when he watched another person murdered by Nagini. He wasn't warned of the fear that he would be next, that he'd be fed to Fenrir Greyback, that his family would be threatened to make sure he performed as the madman wanted. It was hidden from him that he'd be terrified of the very man he had grown up learning to idolize.

And it was that side of things, that disgusting side of things that left him utterly appalled, that were all he could now associate with his family's side of the war. He couldn't even look back at his childhood stories without feeling a sense of pure terror wrack through his body. At night, he fought back tears from the stress and fear of it all. The nights he watched peopleーpeople he once knew, absolute strangers, it didn't matterーbrutally murdered, he spent hours puking up everything he'd eaten that day and then some. He had no clue what he was actually getting into when he followed his father's wishes and entered the war on the Dark Lord's side, and now he wished he could go back and redo everything.

Forget the glory he was promised. Forget the fame, the preeminence and acclamation. He didn't want it. He didn't want any of it. He didn't even care about it, not anymore.

Now... Now he just wanted to be safe in his own home. He wanted to be a child again, completely ignorant to the true horrors of the world and content to just stay in his mother's arms for eternity. He wanted his father back, not the man who returned from Azkaban willing to sacrifice even his family to regain his honor and standing. He wanted so much, and none of it was what siding with the Dark Lord offered him. None of it was anything he could ever truly have again.

But... maybe... Maybe he could get as close to it again as he could... And to do that, he'd need to... Merlin... He'd need to cover for Harry Potter.

Okay. He could do this. He just needed to... He just needed to trick a room full of Death Eaters and Snatchers into believing he had no clue who the boy in front of him was. He just had to lie to his mother's and father's faces and pray to Merlin Auntie Bella didn't come down before he could high-tail his way back up to his room.

_"Shit, he's scared."_ Draco was pulled out of his thoughts just as his fingers reached the bottom of Potter's jaw. He wasn't sure when they started sliding down his face again, but he figured his best bet was to keep them there. With his hands pressed to swollen cheeks, the trembling in them was a lot less visible.

_"Come on, Malfoy, please. I know you can do it. Just..._

_"Try to meet his eyes. He can't hear you, but he's smart. Maybe he'll understand. Come on Malfoy, look me in the eye. You've done it a thousand times before. Don't_ **_not_ ** _do it today. Please."_

Draco let his eyes meet the slits that were Potter's. He figured the other had motivated an entire army of students with his words once upon a time. Maybe... Maybe, for the first time, he could manage to give Draco that same courage and drive to help him. After all, even when almost entirely swollen shut, emerald green still shone vibrantly with all of the ravenette's emotions. And now, Draco could finally hear the thoughts that went with them.

_"Yes! Like that! Great! Good! Perfect!_

_"Okay, come on, Malfoy. You can do this. You need to do this. You're doing so good. Please. They'll give up eventually. Narcissa will pull you away eventually. Just keep covering until then, please."_

A snarl from the other side of the room snapped Draco's attention away from Potter. The beast was getting impatient, and that didn't bode well for Draco. He had to make his final decision, and soon. Merlin, he was so screwed.

Potter's head moved a little in his hand. _"No, hey, come on. Look at me; ignore him. He can't hurt you. I won't let him."_

What...?

_"Come on, Harry. Get it through to him. Make him understand. Everything depends on this. Okay, okay. You've got this. I've got this._

_"Malfoy, look at me. Yeah, like that! Please, keep looking. Ignore Greyback. Ignore your parents. Ignore the Snatchers. Just look at me. It's just you and me. Look at me._

_"Malfoy, I know this is hard. This is a difficult decision for you. You want to keep your family alive. You want to protect everyone you care about. Malfoy, we all do._

_"But I know you better than you think. And I know above all else you want this war to end. You want this all to be over. You aren't evil. You aren't bad. You and me, we're a lot alike. We were both raised for war, born to fight a battle our parents couldn't finish._

_"And I can end all of this. You know I can. It's what I was_ **_born_ ** _to do. I can stop Volde- Don't say his name. I can stop You-Know-Who once and for all. But not if I'm dead. Malfoy, I can't save anyone, you included, if I'm dead, if I die right here, right now. So please, if you never want to have to fear You-Know-Who again, you need to do this._

_"We need you, Malfoy, okay? This group right here, the Order, the world. This entire war depends on your decision right now. Dumbledore saw the good in you that night at the Astronomy Tower. I see the good in you now. Please, Malfoy,_ **_Draco_ ** _, do the right thing. Please._ **_Please_ ** _."_

"I..." Draco let go of Potter's face. "I can't tell." He stood. As quickly as he could, he strodeーokay, more like scurriedーover to his mother. His decision was final.

"Draco-" He cut his father off with a head shake.

"N-No. His face, it... It's too messed up. I can't be certain if it's him. I don't... I don't know." He cursed himself for the uncertainty that wavered his voice despite his best efforts at keeping it clear. If he was going to lie to everybody's faces, to Greyback's face, he needed to leave no room for questioning.

"But wait, the girl! Isn't that the Granger girl?"

Draco merely glanced at who was so obviously Granger before turning back to his mother. "Maybe. I'm not sure..." Curse his stupid voice. Curse his stupid fear.

"What about the boy!? That's Weasley! It's the Weasley boy, yes!?"

Draco didn't even turn around to face his quickly maddening father. "It... could be. I don't know..."

He couldn't believe he was doing this. He was covering for them. He was lying for Potter. He was _protecting_ Potter. And for what? Because he gave him a little speech? Because he used his first name? Because it was such a heartfelt, emotion-packed speech despite Potter not knowing Draco could hear him?

Because... Because that was Potter, and he was Draco, and no matter what, he never truly wanted the other to die. Because Potter was the first person in his life to actually bring something exciting to it, the first person Draco got to choose to let in. Because now he knew Potter didn't just see him as some heartless Death Eater, but as Draco Malfoy, as a teenaged boy just like him, forced into a war he wanted no part in. Because that was Harry Potter, and he was Draco Malfoy, and this was his one chance to finally do something good by the ravenette.

Because... Because Harry Potter meant more to Draco Malfoy than he ever cared to admit, and in the end he would have made the same decision anyway.

"You really think-" Greyback started, and Draco felt a chill go down his spine as a single footstep echoed through the room. However, he was instantly comforted by his mother's hand on his back and the sound of her voice cutting the creature off.

"He said he can't tell. The boy has obviously been hit with a rather nasty stinging jinx. Take him and his party to the dungeons until it wears off. You grabbed him about an hour ago, correct? Then send for Draco and me in twenty minutes. His face should be clear enough to identify by then."

"Send for you, ma'am?"

How his mother never faltered to Greyback's... _everything_ always baffled Draco. A lot of things about her baffled him, actually. But he didn't care. He understood all he needed to about the woman: she was one of the strongest people in the world, and she loved Draco with her entire being.

"Yes," she clipped at him curtly. "I need his assistance with something upstairs. And before you ask, no, you may not inquire as to what it is. It does not concern you. Now, come along, Draco." With that, she began walking, guiding him towards the staircase to go upstairs with her. Draco followed silently.

He did it. He actually did it. Draco lied to his parents, to Snatchers and Death Eaters, to Fenrir-bloody-Greyback! He _lied_ to them, and he _got away with it_. He was following his mother up the stairs. He was safe. They couldn't get him up there. They couldn't touch him now. His mother wouldn't allow it... Potterー _Harry_ ーwouldn't allow it. And believe it or not, whether this made him a fool or a genius, he trusted the other boy. He trusted him with his life.

"What's going on down there? What's with all the commotion?" Auntie Bella asked as she passed them on the stairs. He figured she was going down to answer her own question for herself.

"Unsureties with a new group of captives. I'm sure it will sort itself out eventually."

Auntie Bella squinted at his mother, as if she was trying to find a lie. Technically, there was none... on her part. If the woman decided to ask Draco, though...

"You're welcome to go see for yourself if you're so curious. Draco and I have some business to attend to upstairs."

"Don't tell me what to do, Cissy," she snided. But still, the woman turned and continued on her way down the stairs. She didn't even spare Draco a second glance.

They waited a beat, then two. Auntie Bella's voice rang shrilly throughout the room downstairs, and voices erupted all around. Then his mother continued guiding him up the stairs. With her hand on his back, Draco let himself be led down the many halls, past the many rooms, until they reached one very familiar door: _Draco's_ door.

No words were said their entire way to the room, and none continued to be passed between them as his mother led him to sit on his bed. Once he was down, she spelled over the chair to his desk and graciously took her own seat. Still, silence maintained its thickening grip on the air around them as time seemed to slow down.

"Draco," his mother's voice finally broke the tension. It was quiet, careful, calculated, but it was also a comforting blessing. He had no clue what she wanted, but he was ready to listen to whatever she said a thousand times over if it meant the silence never resumed. He practically jumped when she reached out and took his hand.

"Draco," she said again, "darling. We don't have much time before they call us back down. So I want you to listen to me carefully, do you understand?"

He nodded swiftly.

"My only wish in this entire world is to protect you. It has been my job from the day you were born to keep you safe. And I know I have not been perfect, I won't pretend I have been. But I've tried. Through everything that has happened in your life, I have always tried to keep your best interests at heart. You are my son, and I will _always_ do whatever I can to keep you safe.

"But... the challenges you face now are not something I can assist you in or guide you through. You are your own person now, an adult in the eyes of a harsh, _harsh_ world. And that means it is time for you to make your own decisions, whether you believe you are ready for it or not. I can no longer protect you from all the things I used to.

"That being said, I can still advise you. So I will. I will advise you to make your choices carefully. Consider _everything_. Think of every outcome, every consequence, every hurdle your decision will bring. Make the choice that you know is right, that you know will not only benefit you, but as many others as possible. Be a person you can be proud of.

"That's the only thing that matters in the end, if _you_ are proud of whoever you become. You are still young, Draco. You have the world at your fingertips and a lifetime of choices ahead of you. With that, however, comes a universe of people, opportunities, and possible futures. Don't let that persuade you. Listen to your heart. Follow what you believe to be right.

"Draco," she let go of his hands so she could grab a gentle hold of his face. "You have something not many who enter this life have. You have a chance. You haven't made the mistakes your father and I have. You haven't done anything that you can't come back from.

"So don't, do you understand me? Don't do something like that now. You have a moral code. Follow it. Stick to your morals. You are a good person, and I'm proud to say that's one thing I've managed to do right through all of this. I protected your morals. So use them. _Continue_ to use them. Do what you know is right, and just, and good. Don't follow your father's path. Make your own.

"I promise that you'll still have my support no matter what. My only concern has always been your safety."

Something heavy started to form in the pit of Draco's stomach. He wasn't too sure what his mother meant, but he thought he might have an idea. And that meant... That meant...

She was encouraging him to escape the Dark Lord. If she knew what he'd just done, she was encouraging him to do it again. He had her permission to run and never look back if the chance ever arose, and he had her reassurance that she'd love and support him no matter what he ultimately chose.

And, somehow, that made covering for Potter just a little bit easier.

His brief moment of easiness was quickly ripped away from him, however, when a loud pounding on the door had him all but lurching into the air.

"Ma'am?" he heard Pettigrew's voice on the other side. "You and Master Malfoy are needed downstairs."

"Surely it hasn't already been twenty minutes, now has it." It wasn't a question. And it didn't need an answer. At most, it had been maybe about ten.

"Ah, no, Ma'am! But a problem has arisen, and Mistress Lestrange has requested both of your presence."

Draco watched his mother let out a gentle sigh. "Alright, Wormtail. Inform my sister we'll be down shortly."

"Yes Ma'am!"

Then the mouse of a man was scampering off and Draco's mother was standing. She moved so that she was standing right next to him.

"Remember what I told you, Draco," she whispered, pulling him into a benign hug. "Always follow what you believe to be right."

They stayed like that for a few moments, Draco letting himself melt into the security that was his mother's embrace. It wasn't the warmest of ones, his mother predisposed to a relatively cold body temperature. And she was a thin, bony woman, so there was little softness to the hug. But it was comfortable, familiar, and something he expected he wouldn't get to experience again for a long time once they left the safety of his room.

Without a word, his mother pulled away, taking Draco's feeling of being protected with her. But as he stood and began to follow her back down to the party downstairs, he tried to reassure himself that he still had it. His mother was still there. He was still as safe as he'd ever been. She would never abandon him. She was always on his side, no matter what he didーshe gave him permission to finally break free with the affirmation that she'd still be there for him.

**"Stick to your morals,"** his mother's voice rang in his head as they began their descent down the stairs.

**"Be a person you can be proud of."** He wanted to take her advice. He wanted to be proud of himself. He didn't want to hate himself and everything he stood for anymore. He didn't want to stand for all the bad in the world.

**"Listen to your heart. Follow what you believe to be right."** Okay.

There was some sort of commotion going on; Draco could hear it. But they weren't far enough down the stairs to hear what it fully was or actually see what was happening. All he could do was let his mind run wild with what he might find once he'd reached the rest of his home's current occupants. And he could hope to Merlin that it wasn't something regarding Potter.

Because if they had brought Potter back up early and his face was clear, then there was little more Draco could do for him. He'd made his decision to help the boy and his friends, yes, but he'd done his part. He got the boy extra time to conspire with his little gang, even if just a small amount. They would even have an additional member reunited with their party once they found that Lovegood girl in the dungeons. So Draco had done his part in helping. The rest was up to Potter.

Draco fully believed that Potter, in his true 'Golden Boy' fashion, would save the day. He'd be the one to put a final end to the Dark Lord's reign of terror. He'd be the one to free the entire world from its cowering in fear of the monster trying to play god. He would save everybody. And maybe, hopefully, Draco could get a fresh start following everything. Potter said he'd protect him, and he hoped that meant from more than just the Dark Lord.

But for that to happen, Potter would need to pull one of his last ditch effort magical escapes. And he would. Draco knew he would. Because he was Harry Potter. Because he always did.


End file.
